


Abhorrence For The Damned

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gore, Humiliation, Mind Control, Molestation, Multi, Necrophilia, Vomiting, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-02 03:39:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat finds a new way to hate his very existence.<br/>(this is done as it's gonna get)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The yellowing of decay

At first you were absolutely horrified. Who wouldn't be, you found a dead body outside your respitblock. Sollux's to be exact. You figured it was a gift from your wack-job of a moirail so you grimmaced and pulled up your big grub pants before hefting the bloody, slime-engorged corpse into your block.

You set him up against the wall, feeling ill. You think to yourself, he almost looked healthier than in life, and start laughing. You dont stop until tears form rivulets down your face and youre holding yourself up with a hand on the wall, sobbing.

He was your best friend, whom you've seen die twice, get attacked by another friend, mutilated in the strangest ways, and then after all that and all your tears and worries and even begging him to stay, you got to watch him grow smaller and smaller after sending you rocketing through the void.

Fuck him.

You kick the body over with a wretched squish and take a seat on the other side of the block, pulling out your husktop and playing 'in which a set of lowblood moirails lose employment and go searching for a new oportunity in the programming squad while having no ability for the craft themselves. Involves one game of quidich, reckless partying in an implausible setting for their caste, one red hook-up, hints of black flirtation, and the mocking of a highblood.' Its honestly not a bad movie, even without Adam Sandler or Will Smith. You're unable to finish watching due to the nauseating stench of rotten flesh and you turn to glare at sollux.

He's just lying there, hollow eyes facing you from his place of the floor. His mouth gapes open and gooey blood is pooled around his mouth as if he regurgitated it after being kicked.

Hes disgusting, you want him gone... no you dont. You want him back. Dearly. You want him to come back and yell at you and pay some shit-blistering attention to you because no one else does. Nobody listens to you, youre a joke. Its been two years and you are /raw/ with loneliness.

You get up and kneel in front of him, picking him up into your arms handfasting style and take him to your recuperacoon. You strip him down and set him inside before getting in as well. The thing about being on a meteor in outerspace is theres no vermin. No flies, maggots, worms, moths, or other theives to eat away at your friend and infest his meat with their writhing. Gamzee set him in one of those vats from the ectobiology block just for you, because he looks no worse for wear than when he exploded his guts all over the place in the name of escape.

Certainly no uglier, as if that ever mattered. Hes your best friend, the one who knew nearly all your flaws and still spoke to you. You caress his face and lean in, gagging at the smell. You miss him so much, seeing his ghosts in dream bubbles only making that gulf of misery deeper. You press your lips to his and pretend that taste is him, not a rubbery, slime slicked, rotting lip. You push your tongue in and rub it against his weird tasting organ. He couldnt have two so he had settled for splitting it down the middle like an overlarge lizard. You move one tine at a time before running the tip of your tongue over his gums, teeth having fallen out because of your own personal dumbfuckery.

You pull back and throw up, bent over the rim of the recuperacoon and heaving hard enough to get a head rush. You cough and gag, the taste of chemical goop and old blood being replaced with bile and half-digested grubloaf. Once thats overwith you return to his side and play with his hair, sweating and shivering.

Your free hand slips down to rub your sheath. You'll never feel him inside you, squirming and thrashing with pleasure. You wont ever see him again. Surely it wouldnt hurt to switch that particular fantasy around, given the circumstances. Youre always so alone, no one will ever know anyway, so whats stopping you? You rub his horn as you tease your bulge out, soft black skin making every touch it recieves cause you to shiver and gasp. A shift in positioning and you get yourself to straddle his lap, bulge rubbing at his bloated nook and sheath. His skin is almost freezing cold, making him feel more like a highblood than a gold and riling you up further. You push into him and the way he feels causes your breath to hitch; smooth and wet and cold, squeezing you in all the right ways. Your head lolls back in a livin mockery of his as you hilt yourself and snatch his hand, linking fingers in what youd always imagined to be flushed affection. You grind and slide in him until the blood rushes in your ears, entire body as hot as your thighs after a laptop movie marathon.

A croon slips past your lips followed soon after by a low moan. He's so good, so perfect. You keep going until you come and you fill him with your colour. Hes still dead, no afterglow from him although you have a hard time imagining him as anything but an impassive asshole so you guess... this is the best youll ever get. Nobody wants you and this only proves their intelligence. You fucked your dead best friend, how horrifying can you even get? Youre about to pull out when he grins and a hiss eminates from his gummy maw.

 

You wake up screaming, horns falling around you as you thrash and wretch and cough. You're alone in the horn pile and not in your recuperacoon with sollux. Not festering in your own personal tub of shame. You feel a wetness between your legs signaling arousal and begin to wildly curse yourself.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and although at first you were horrified, by now youre revolted and ashamed.


	2. Purple bruises for the long past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who the fuck only eats one potato chip?

You get through the next day of your life like you get through all the next days of your life; pretending the one preceding was a fluke and that the walls will start closing in if you don't push them and everything else away by sheer volume levels and being pricklier than anything kanaya could have cultivated on the edges of her oasis where the desert starts creeping in.

Point is, you did not dream about your deceased friend, nor did you pop a wiggly in your sleep over the idea of his putrified nookflesh. It didnt happen because no one saw it happen and it wasnt even a dream bubble. It didnt happen and you can move on. You continue to tell yourself this after finding a very real pair of violet-stained legs. Then the molded over offal and shards of bone and... its been more than one earth solar orbit by now, didnt gamzee do anything with this body? The smell catches up to you moments after one of the vents switches off and you nearly wretch all over yourself. Scratch that, you do proceed to puking on the toes of your shoes, shivering as you back away from the bisected cadaver. You hold your sleeve up over your nose and start hunting for the rest of the body, prepared to mark this area off so as to warn the rest away from it.

A breath or some similar distubance in the air trickles past your cheek and you nearly claw all of your skin off as you turn around. Two white eyes blinklessly meet your gaze. 

"... hey kar." You swallow hard and fight to keep your hand away from your face as you take him in. His front is saturated with gore but hes in one piece, able to move. "Fancy finding you here."

You feel a mix of rage and relief wash over you at the sound of his voice. "You vile fucking bag of rat feces, how can you even look at me after all that?" You choke and start coughing, backing away until your heel sends something rolling off into the dark with a parting smoosh. He doesnt smile, which makes the empty chuckle even worse.

"You say that like you haven't cried about me bein gone and leavin you all to your lonesome. Poor fuckin kar, everyones gone, aint no one likes him anymore." He starts sobbing before it abruptly stops and he phases closer. You stumble back again and trip over his head, landing on your ass in what feels like a pool of fuzz.

"I missed my friend! Not the murderer he became!" You mean to sound irate but its too shrill, its too tinny in the metal halls. He snarls.

"It weren't my fault kar. I was bein the reasonable one, tryin to save fef. None of you wanted to listen, wanted to give me the time of night." He crouches and when he touches you its no colder than in life and feels horribly real. "You'll be givin me that now though, this is my fuckin bubble and you aint leavin for a while, kar." He bares his teeth and you shove him off, jumping up and scuttling down the hall away from him. He follows of course, grabs a hold of your arm and yanks you spinning into the wall. "Look at me kar, karkat, look what she did to me. Look how I got left. I can feel it, feel myself disolvin into the cracks of this meteor."

"Stop touching me." You manage to breathe the words before your throat clenches tight. You remember how he looked when you froze up and watched as he murdered two of your friends and blinded a third. You remember too well, and this is only his dead self, he can't... he cant really hurt you. Right? When you push him away again he shoves you back to the wall by the throat and he squeezes enough for you to wheeze.

"Better stop talkin unless you wanna beg my mercy a which I aint got not. Fuckin peasants left to win the game, that shitblood captor gets to run around with his shitblood galpal takin care a the lonesome lost souls a whats left of us? And me? I tried to help an-"

"And you started killing people!" You gag as he squeezes your throat tighter.

"Didnt kill you kar..." your eyes hurt from how much his are glowing, some sickly pale starshine. "Didnt kill you didnt touch you didnt even curse you afore leavin. Better start thankin me. Better start hopin I dont take you with me when this bubble pops. Mmmh..." he rubs your jaw with his thumb, head tilting.

"But there aint any hope whats lyin around now is there?" His expression does some weird sort of crumple. "Kar there aint nothin to hope for, let me... let me..." hes so fucking clammy his lips are clammy and gross, like kissing something dead.

He screams when he starts fading, gnashes his teeth and just hardly snaps them shut in front if your throat before hes gone. You fall to your knees and gasp for breath, your throat finally having been freed. His body's gone too, except a few vertebrae here and there in the gloom. Honestly its too dark to see and too cold to stay, and you hope these dead friends will leave you alone before someone accuses you of having a cracked pan.

The loss of so many people you loved, the rest changed and and uninterested in picking up your shattered pieces, it's really almost nice to have seen eridan. You change that thought the minute you remember his prissy, vengeful expression lit up by white science. The first thing that greets your searching fingers is a spinal disk and you run your fingers along its curved outer rim. Its cold as everything else here, and rough where the meat used to anchor. Its more your friend than anyone alive still, slips nicely into your pocket as you uncurl and stand on wobbly legs, and walk towards the lit halls above.


	3. CO(NH2)2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Im sorry it got boring, I promise it's leading up to something bigger.

It’s been almost a week now, and the dreams having been getting worse. At least, you think they’re dreams. Thats really the problem though, see, you just don’t know anymore when you’re dreaming or waking or hallucinating. So of course you discount most of the week as having been… daydreams. yeah. You need to talk to someone. Sure it’d be nice for that someone to be Gamzee but you’ve gone looking multiple times, more than you’d like to admit honestly. The headrush you get after standing up almost knocks you right back down, which would of course be a stupid way to hurt yourself so you lean against the wall until everything more or less looks normal again.

Well, normal as it ever does of course. You wet your lips with a rather dry tongue and rub your arms against the chill as you reconstitute in the main hall, stepping off the transportalizer. The acrid scent of burning wire clings to you like usual after using that thing, you’re honestly surprised none of you have been facing adverse side effects from the equipment just lying around the meteor. It can't possibly be safe... You enter the nutrition block and start hunting for something even remotely edible, something that doesnt make your stomach churn. That something turns out to be some sort of died meat strips wrapped in plastic, which you quickly shred into submission. Oh god damn its good to get something down your throat, you forget when the last time you bothered to eat was.

"Karkat, damn dude dont act like youre making love its just jerky." You nearly have a heart attack as you jerk bodily to face the human- humans, in the room with you. They must have just arrived, you didnt even see them before when you came in.

"It is delicious and more than worthy of my enjoyment, unlike this sad excuse for a conversation we're having." You glare at him, waiting for him to shimmer fade decompose. Rose is already doing that last option, staring at you smirking and not breathing. Wait she moved and when you look at her cheek directly it's still there. Maybe it healed up.

"At least its a conversation at all, bro its been like three weeks since youve decided to grace us with your dictatorial presence. You finally taking a break from conquering troll russia to tell the masses all is well and that you need to send your creepy boyfriend off to the glue factory?"

"Dave I'm more than certain hes not catching your juvenile english class humour......" This one is getting boring quick, you hate the ones that drag on so you take your human jerky and pad off down the hall. It's still cold, god you wish it wasnt so cold, youre getting tired of shivering so much. But maybe thats low blood sugar from not eating. (Maybe you're sick fuck you need to go home before someone sees you finds you culls you). You need to start walking, youve been standing here for a few minutes now and the jerky is gone, wrapper useless between your teeth but its still got grease on it, which is nice. You walk past something but dont bother to wonder what it is, the chance of it being anything important is slim to none. Fuck youre thirsty, youre so thirsty you think your tongue might be more sand than meat by now so you wander back to the blessedly vacant nutrition block and drink from the available sink, one hand holding onto the faucet and the other gripping the sink. You let it move from your mouth to your cheek, over your eyes, dip your entire head under the torrent. Its colder than the air and makes you shiver more but it feels nice.

Rivulets of water dampen your shirt when you straighten your back, a few disks popping into place, but you're going back to your block anyway. You walk into the wall. No you walk into a very concerned kanaya. (No this isnt wait) she puts a hand on your shoulder.

"Karkat are you quite alright? You look dreadful." Her voice is crisp and clearer than youre used to hearing, maybe shes solid this time.

"Yeah I'm fucking peachy, except actually im really tired and you're kind of in the way." You don't tell her to get lost because this is kanaya, you simply dont have it in you to be any more abrasive than necessary with her.

"I am not entirely sure what you mean, the doorway is over there..." her eyes drift past you and you turn to see that the way out is a few feet to the left. Oh. You pull out of her grasp and wipe some moisture off your face.

"Yeah." You exit and trudge back towards your block, worn out from, nothing. You breathe heavily the moment youre inside and flop directly into the pile of junk you've gathered for a moirail who never appears. No, no hes not your moirail, you know he never was but you had hoped for a while it had been more than a pap session and a shoulder to cry on. Thats stupid, you're stupid, he doesn't show because hes busy hateflirting with Terezi, probably actually kissing by now. You rub your thumb against your throat as the image of her pushed up against the inside of a vent with Gamzee's tongue at her chest, little bruises from where his mouth has been previously. The waver in her snarl as she tells him he can do better than that-. You pull your hand away from your stomach and dig your palms into your eyes. She should growl at you like that (you should be better so shed want to). You dont stop pushing until youre met with miniscule spinning shapes bigger than horrorterrors bigger than empty. When it goes past painful into that weird sort of numb you pull them down and wait for the far wall to come back to your sight.

Thats a god damn arm. That is an arm its an arm and it smells like sick, it smells like chemical burn, like... an arm. You scramble up and knock your husktop over in your hurry, falling down by, by vriskas flesh arm. You know its hers by build, most of the meat having turned a sick black with the lack of thrumming blood. Then its gone. No no, no it was real, you thought, shit you really do need to sleep.

-

You wake up from being white noise, static and zipping photons from something eons past, fingers playing with your hair. You let your eyes stay closed because maybe its him; the skin is cold enough and those claws are just rough enough to fit. Then you sneeze, and its gone and you sit up. You're not crying, you don't have any reason to cry so despite the fact that you cant see through the liquid seeping around your bulbsockets you are definitely not crying like a wiggler. You take a few shuddering breaths and wipe your totally dry fave off and leave your block. You feel urgent but you're not you, (why would you ever want to be?) So you just walk and walk and when you stop walking its because there are three people standing around you but mostely in front of you, in the way. Its Rose that speaks first.

"Karkat, whats wrong? Are you hurt?" What? Your brow furrows and hot breath shoots past your snarled lip.

"Of course not, what the fuck kind of question is that?" The voice that squeeks and wavers past your lips sounds... it sounds awful actually. In a way that you might pity if a second later you didn't realize it was you. By the way Kanaya's watching you its probably worse to them.

"You've been acting rather strange, and you've got bruises on your face, if I may ask what have you been doing?" You hiss at her and flick your head so your hair sort of falls down and shields your eyes from view. Maybe halfway from view. She doesn't look less worried but she does back off. Kanaya doesn't, Dave doesn't, actually he comes closer and carefully puts an arm around your shoulders.

"Come on dude, you and I are going to take a walk."

"Says who?" You snap, cringing away from him and glaring. He doesnt seem all that impressed as he nudges you onward and down the hall.

"Says me, douchebag. Now, you planning on telling me what kind of paint you've been huffing or do we have to wait for the autopsy report?" You snarl at that.

"Im not on any drugs, what kind of question even is that?!" You feel a twinge somewhere in your gut but you ignore it in favore of digging your claws(chewed down and rough) into his arm as he continues to lead you down the hall.

"The kind of question any self-respecting detective asks his detainee. Now, if youre not in drugs then is this some sort of troll sickness? Wandering around talking at air and walking away from conversations? You're acting like an out of touch whackjob." You shove him away and punch his arm for that, and yipe when he pushes you back. You hit the ground hard and fuck, fuck no what the hell! You press your legs together and scratch the floor as your hands become fists and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"Dude, shit did I hurt you?" His cape whuffles as he drops down to check on you, tone nervous. Your own voice is strained when you speak.

"Hh- hf, I need you to fuck off real quicklike, right now. Im serious get away from me you spineless goddamn shitweasle." You shudder and clamp your legs tighter as his look of worry fades into a more pissed off expression.

"Vantas I am trying to help you, tell me what the fuckin problem is before you keel over and we really do have to resort to autopsy." You hiss again and the pressure is almost too much but then he grabs your sleeves and yanks you to your feet and you cant do shit to stop yourself. And he stares. And you dont.

You dont really know what to do actually, its not like youre an expert in pissing yourself publicly. He keeps staring as your flush with shame and more shame at the miniscule feeling of relief. He opens his mouth and you fucking hiccup over a breath, eyes stinging to match your cheeks and neck.

"Don't you say a single word, don't, don't you dare strider." His mouth snaps shut and he absconds faster than your eyes can keep up with.

This is the wrong hallways, but you might run into someone if you go back the other way to go to your block. Oh god. Oh god this is awful this is disgusting and its already growing chill. You swallow hard and make yourself go back towards the right hall, nerves flaring up drastically. You get to the spot where the intervention committee had placed themselves and manage to keep going, nearly running by the time you get to your room. The moment you're safe inside you strip down and wipe the piss off your legs with some rag lying around, and this time your pride is low enough for you to admit you're crying. Just to yourself.

You ignore the jade ping from your husktop, shutting it and curling up in your junk pile until you feel burried enough to sooth the desparate need to hide. You ignore your phone buzzing from across the block. You even ignore your PDA chiming from some lost corner outside your block. Its probably dave, trying to tell you he didnt run off on your orders or something equally as pandead stupid.

You stay in your pile and pretend nothing is wrong, because crying is one thing, but admitting you cant handle yourself is one shaky conversation away from the culling block.


	4. The waves will drown you or rock you to sleep

Normal was the goal, really. Not that you always meet your goal, or that you do it all that often in the first place, but that's why you're sitting out here in the common area acting like nothing happened. Because it didn't. If Dave treats you like a troll wronged then that's his problem, if Rose scribbles in an empty book while shooting you what probably to her feels like covert glances then that's her deal, if Kanaya keeps leaving food and combs and warm clothing for you in places you're sure to find them well that's, that's her issue. You didn't ask for them to treat you like a broken glass hastily glued back into one piece, you didn't ask anything from them.

You dreamt about Terezi kissing you last night. You dreamt that she was built like muscle and rumble spheres, lips cool and soft, hands small and callused on your skin. It doesn't matter, its not the first time you've had a dream like that about her, at least this one was somewhat normal. Not like... that dream you had of Sollux. No, no that also didn't happen. You dreamt of Terezi and it was normal and you need something to be right again, so you chase that feeling of okay and sit your scrawny ass squarely in the middle of the common area, stacking and unstacking cans of tuberous vegetation. (It's pissing the mayor off and he works on stacking a jail, watching you build and unbuild the post office over and over and over.)

After a while you grow tired of fucking up another little world and move on to fiddling with the spinal disk you've kept in your pocket. Some of the edges are worn smooth by now, the movement of turning it over in your hands second nature. Rose's pen gets rather frantic and you can't help but send her a withering glare.

"Look Lalonde, I don't recall agreeing to becoming the latest patent in your oddly long-lasting career of awful psychoanalysis, so stop with the notations before I get up and eat that book." She pops her brow in a way only these pale humans seem capable of and her lips curve upward enough to show a small flash of off-white.

"Mr. Vantas I assure you I keep up with doctor/patient confidentiality, no one else is privy to these musings. I simply wish to find out in which way your xenopsychology took a swan dive off the deep end."

You snarl at her and pocket the bone, hauling yourself to your feet. "Alright then, what's the verdict? Am I set for the culling block or will I be better off in a laborliquid compound?"

"The term is diagnosis and no... No I think you're suffering from paranoia, severe anxiety, and possible delusions." That makes you pause, unsure of how exactly to respond. How did she know about the delusions? You don't, you don't tell anyone, you don't engage them, you've been so careful how... She lets out a small sigh. "I suppose that's quite a thing to simply drop into someone's lap but you did ask. I've been watching you and asking the others what they've noticed, not to hurt your feelings I assure you-"

"How did you know about, about the seeing shit, or hearing shit. You can't record my own accounts since I haven't given any." You try not to sound as unnerved as you feel but it's difficult.

"You carry on conversations with no one, react to unseen stimuli, treat us as if we aren't real, among other things. Its almost textbook really." Shes hiding her excitement poorly, and seems almost embarrassed about it. You bristle anyway, and scoff at her notebook

"Whether I am or not I still don't want you keeping notes on me. It's creepy. I can take care of my own self without you... without you trying to find the right angle to get me in a pile with you. Being a human doesn't excuse you from learning some manners." With that you take a step back and abscond, done interacting for the day. Week. Maybe you'll come out when this meteor reaches its destination.

She lets you go, not like she has any real reason to keep you around. The halls get dark and cold again even through your (new, wonderfully thick and soft) sweater. Then you hear a honk. It isn't loud, in fact you may have imagined it, but you cannot squash the hope it flings down your throat as you start jogging towards the sound. You change direction when you hear another to your left, and you just keep wandering the halls hoping to catch up with him. Its too dark down here, your skin prickles and your guts churn oh fuck shit why did you come down here? Fear grips you strong enough to make you tremble, taking small gasps of air as your ears prick for any sort of noise. Something cold slaps your mouth and stays there as a, you think an arm reaches around and pulls you back against a body until you stop trying to thrash free.

"Hey now brother ain't no reason to all up and get so motherfuckin feisty." It's him? No, no its not him you close your eyes and breathe slowly, waiting for this all to go away go away just go... his hand slides down over your chin to gently cup your throat while his nose brushes your aural flesh prong. No he doesn't because he's not- the thought is interrupted by a nauseating wave of terror and you chirp before you can stop yourself.

"Gamzee?" You have to say it between gulps of air but you say it, and hearing his voice again, hearing how solid it is and feeling him hold you, its enough to make you think maybe this time it's him.

"Yeah brother, you walked yourself all the way down here while I was gettin my paint on, wicked miracle like that's gotta get repaid in the most righteous of ways." You don't know what that means but he pulls you down to the metal floor and bundles you into his lap, still with you facing out away from him.

"... we, are we still moirails?" You should tell him to fuck off, you should cuss him out and you're only holding back the bitter accusations and curses because this reality feels too fragile. If you chase him off now you'll just hate yourself worse. His hands wedge between your shoulders and his chest, slide down your back so you lean forward, and when they settle just above your netherpadding he pushes you forward and up until you're kneeling. Then he pulls you so you’re looking at him and he kisses you so fucking gently that your heart melts.

"Paler than starshine, brother. You're mine, ain't no human or troll can steal you out from under me while I’m busy." He kisses you again and settles you in his lap with your legs around his torso. What can you do? You miss him like a starving troll misses food, so you cup his ears and kiss back, pressing as close as your atoms will allow. He nuzzles and kisses your face like you've wanted for almost half a sweep now, makes your limbs feel heavy and your blood like syrup. You even purr for him.

(You're more than relaxed, you feel like you're wakesleeping like you can’t move or speak but you're awake and there's that underlying current of fear, like acid aftertaste)

(You kneel while straddling him his hand rubs at you before pushing into your sweatpants, if you could move you’d, you don't know, stop him. Slackjaw for him, breathing too slow as his fingers push up into your nook, palm keeping your sheath shut.)

He rubs your back and croons at you while you shift in his lap, confused and appalled at your reaction to kissing. That, it couldn't have been more than that. It felt unreal but your bulge is swollen in its sheath and you're too hot, the fabric of your pants sticking to your crotch. One hand moves up into your hair so he can rub your horn and, and it's gentle it's pale but it just adds to your discomfort.

"Aw brother you feelin alright?" He pulls back to look you over and you're glad its so dark because you're flushed a bright red. You pull away and stumble off a few feet before crossing your arms and looking around, feeling for the exits.

"I, need to uh... I need to go. I need.." you find one and start walking, alarmed. There is nothing you'd rather do than let him soothe your hurts and make you feel safe, but you don't feel safe and you're being weird again, getting all hot and bothered by him kissing and petting you. Fuck. Fuck you dig your nails into your arms and walk faster, ignoring how everything between your legs is pulsing with your rapid heartbeat. Where the fuck are you? These hallways don't look familiar and you can't breathe can't think, your head hurts. The way the walls around you fuzz and melt probably isn't real, which means none of this was real, you think, unless it was and you're just now seeing shit.

You find a dead end and just sit down, put your head between your knees and wait. If you wait it out you're more likely to find the way out of this maze. It's just your sight fucking up, that's all, it's okay. After a while your breathing finally starts to even out and you stop shaking so much, though you hadn't realized you had been doing so in the first place.

"Karkat?" Fuck that's not real either, you put your hands on the sides of your head and grit your teeth. "Karkat are you hurt?" Says Terezi's voice, because you know it isn't her. It just isn't. A hand touches your shoulder and you flinch, looking up at her.

"..." you don't say anything, because you're so tired of talking to phantoms it's got your insides all wound up, so you move your hands to cover your ears. She frowns and doesn't go away when you ignore her, which makes the feeling of 'not right' swell enough for you to bare your teeth at her, tensing up.

"What? What do you want? How do I know its you?" She recoils and watches you warily, ears pricked and nostrils flared. Wetting her lips, she speaks again.

"You smell like fear and mudgrape. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Hit me."

"Excuse me?" Her burnt out pupils jerk around for a face they can't see.

"Hit me, slap me like I stole the beetles, I need to, I have to make sure you're real. Unless you've lost your spine since I last saw you-" your head snaps to the side with a ringing crack, the side of your face stinging. "..."

"... Officer Vantas, I expect a full fucking report in either shouty voice or spicy grey text do you understand me?" You glance over at her, the tension and unease melting from your limbs.

"Absolutely, your viciousness." You put your hand on the floor and after a moment of hesitance you slide it towards hers. She sniffs, lips parting as she sucks the small breath in, and takes your hand. Her fingers are cold and rough-skinned as they rub swipes of your palm.

"You're almost as hard to keep track of as our resident jester, not a very good trait for a loyal threshicutioner."

"Isn't it a bit below your station to worry about the social habits of a traitor to the crown?"

"Watch it I have no qualms about slapping your cute little face again." That makes you stick your tongue out. You blow a raspberry just so she knows for sure, which just makes her grin (even if it's not as wide as it used to be).

"... Why don't we go get something from the nutrition block then?" You rub your thumb against her fingertips as she stands, pulling you up by that hand.

"Sure, but you're not getting out of that report."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by Necey


End file.
